Demons of our own
by LexiWinchester
Summary: Dean escapes from hell and goes straight to Sammy, but soon they realize that the have some demons of there own to deal with. Warning:Wincest, Language Everything belongs to there respective owners blah blah blah.. To be continued...
1. Chapter 1

Deans eyes opened. It was dark, and cold, and he found that his muscles ached. Dead silence, broken up by only the sound of his breath. His hand reached up, coming to an abrupt stop at something hard, he slid his hand up and down the wood. There were no screams. No tears. Only silence.

* * *

He kept reaching, digging, Searching for a way out, for a breath of air. It hurt, everything hurt. A breeze crashed against his hands. He found what he was searching for. He pulled his head out and took in a deep gasp of air. Panting, he tried to pull the rest of his body out.

He stood up, and looked around. _Where the hell am I?_ He started to walk. His cheek was wet, he reached his hand to his face, only to realise that he was crying. He new was_ Sam. Sammy._ He would get to se his baby brother. His heart ached and all that surrounded his mind was Sam. _Sammy._

* * *

Sam Heard a knock on the door, he grabbed his gun and hid it be hind his back. His eye got closer to the to the peep hole. _Dean . . . what?_ He opened the door. His eyes searched up and down his brother. He was confused, and he could feel the tears building up in the corner of his eyes, ready to spill over. He just wanted to touch him, and kiss him. He wanted to fuck him, and dig his fingers into his skin. He'd never wanted anything so much. He just needed to slide his hands over his brothers body. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Dean. Deans eyes widened. "Sammy. Sam, it's me. It's _really_ me. Dude, I'm as confused as you are."

He walked into the motel room and closed the door behind him. Before his head was fully turned back around, he was pushed up against the wall, greeted by needy lips against his own. "Dean. Dean." the words came spilling out of Sam's mouth. The tears that had been built up had finally bubbled over and ran down his cheeks. Dean pushed Sam onto the bed, their legs tangled together as they hit the mattress. Greedy hands ran over warm skin.

"_Dean_. Dean I missed you so much"

"I know Sammy. Me too"

Their lips met again, Sam pulled his shirt over his head. Dean unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off. "Hey, Dean . . . wait."

"What Sammy?"

"I feel like I'm about to do it with a dead person." Dean laughed. "Dean, it's not funny."

"I'm not dead anymore. Thats not very reasuring, uhm how 'bout this: I'm back, and I'm not leavin', ever. Okay Sammy?"

Their bodies got closer, and they picked up where they left off. Dean wrapped his fingers through Sams hair.

Then there was a knock on the door and they stopped moving imedietly. "W-who is it?" Sam's voice was shakey. "It's Bobby, ya idiot! Who'd ya think it was?" Sam pulled his shirt back over his head, Dean grabbed his pants and his belt and ran to the washroom. Sam let Bobby in. Sam's hair was messy still. "What's up with you?" Bobby looked at Sam.

"What?"

"Your hair. What, did you take a nap or somethin'?"

"... Y-yeah, uhm, I guess you could put it that way," Sam replied reluctantly. A trying-to-hard-to-seem-normal smile spread across his face. Then Dean walked out of the bathroom. "Hey, Bobby," Bobby's eyes lit up. "Dean." Dean walked over to Bobby and gave him a big bear hug. "Dean," Sam said quietly, with an scared look on his face "Dean, I need to talk with you . . . alone." They both looked at Bobby.

"It's alright boys, I got the hint. But, theres a demon in town and I'm going hunting. I was hoping you would come but you boys obviously got some _stuff _to work out. It was nice seein' ya Dean," Bobby said. "You two," Dean replied. Bobby left. They waited a couple of minutes before they started to talk. "What did you want to say, Sam?"

"Do you think . . . do you think he knows?"

"Are you _insane_?"

"No, it's just . . ."

"Just what?"

"The way he said 'you boys oviously got some _stuff _to work out."

"Well, why would his mind jump to . . . . that? I mean, he's smart but he's not crazy. He would never guess that we were . . .you know!"

"Well, we need to stop it."

"Why? Rules are meant to be broken Sammy. Whats so wrong with it?"

"'Whats wrong with it?' Were brothers Dean." Dean started towards the door. "Dean, where are you going?" Dean stopped. He turned around. "You know. I never thought it would get so bad."

"What?" Sam stared at Dean. "Dean."

"That it would be so damn hard just to not touch you. Or dream about you, or think about your body. The way you walk. Talk. Smile. Sammy, you are everything that I can't live without, but were not supposed to because 'it's not _right_.' What is right Sam?" Dean continued walking, the door slammed shut behind him.


	2. Caught

Sam moved moved his hand down to the small of Deans back, making it arch. Deans lips parted letting out a throaty moan as Sam unbuttoned his brother's pants, sliding them of. Sam moved back up and traced his tongue along Deans lower lip. "Sam, I lov--"

Sam's eyes shot open before Dean could finish his sentance. Sam realized that he was alone in the ratty motel room, he got up and changed into some clothes. Just as he was about to walk out of the door to look for Dean, his brother fell into his arms. Blood stained Sam's hands as he held his brother. "Dean, what happened?" Dean just layed there and took comfort in the fact that his brother was holding him, without the "no"'s and "it's wrong"'s. He just wanted to love his brother and not be punished for it. "Dean, It'll be alright. C'mon, lets get you inside."

"Sammy, I was just stabbed in the arm, I'm fine."

"Dean, your not fine. take off your shirt, lets get you cleaned up." Dean obliged, pulling his shirt over his head and making his way over to Sam. "Sammy, I'm sorry that I just left you like that--"

"Dean. Stop, okay. I'm not ready to talk about it, and I'm not ready to do anything--anything like that again."

"Sa--"

"Dean. just get into the shower."

"Only if you join me . . ." Dean walked past his brother, and into the washroom, with a tempting smile on his face.

"Dean."

"Okay, I get it, but I'm hurt. Make me feel better, just forget the rules for a while."

"No! Dean. I. Said. No." Each word was slightly separated to make it sound more serious, but Dean still laughed as he pulled off the rest of his clothes and turned the tap in the shower. He stepped inside, shuddering at the cold water hitting his skin for the first few seconds, soon the water started to heat up and he sighed. "Sammy, your missing out, the waters really nice." He taunted as he waited for a response. Nothing. "Whatever," He whispered, more to himself then to Sam, as he continued showering. He grabbed the bar of soap and rubbed it over his body, lathering it, and sliding his hands over his chest. He imagined that Sam's hands were feeling his body, not his own. He felt guilty at the thought, but he's thought worse. He allowed himself to get lost in his sick fantasies as he continued his shower.

* * *

Dean stepped out of the shower, letting the steam fill the room. He rapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom and over to the duffle bag that had his few belongings in it, he pulled out a shirt and some boxers. He pulled the shirt over his damp body, Followed by the boxers, and walked over to the bed, he collapsed next to Sam with a sigh of relief. "Sam?"

"Ye--" Sam was interupted by agressive lips against his own. "Dea--" Dean wouldn't let him say no, not this time. Sam let out a quiet moan. "Fuck it," he said as he pushed Dean down on his back. His lips pressed against his brothers, his tongue dancing around Dean's, fighting for dominance, and winning. As Dean gave in to his brothers kiss, Sam flipped around so that Dean was on top. A smirk spead across Dean's face as his brother tried to pull of his shirt. Dean helped and pulled the grey t-shirt over his head. Their lips met again, being broken up by a "what the hell are you boys doing?"

They both looked up to see Bobby standing in the doorway, his jaw dropped when he noticed that Dean was wearing only his black boxers. He stood up, seperating himself from Sam. "Bobby? What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean asked, sounding angrier than he intended. "Dean, what the hell did you do to your brother?" Bobby asked, the anger in his voice was almost tangable. "Whoa! Bobby _he _didn't _do _anything to me."

"Then please, tell me what I just saw, and I hope it's not what I think you were doing."

"We were just _kissing_!"

"_Just kissing?_ Sam you are _brothers_. Why would you be kissing your brother? What the fuck?"

"Well. . ." Sam paused, trying to come up with something to say.

"Oh, no, please continue." Bobby said sarcastically. Then Dean cut in. "Bobby, why are you here?"

"I was coming over to check on you guys and your door was slightly ajar, I heard something crash so I came in."

"well, I just nocked the lamp off the night stand when Sam--" he thought it best to stop there. Why would he explain how Sam had played with his body, pulling him around and touching him? Kissing him and making him moan. Why would Bobby need to know that? Why would he _want _to know that? "Dean, Sam. This little thing you've got going here, it's sick and it's wrong. It needs to stop. Now."

Bobby walked out of the room muttering something under his breath. How would they get over this, Bobby _knows_. He knows _everything_. Dean pulled his pants on and walked out of the room to catch up to Bobby, leaving Sam alone. Again.


End file.
